Bohos for a Family
by ClumsyFiend
Summary: PreMR fic. Toulouse’s actions come back to haunt him as the unexperienced bohos attempt to raise an ‘accidental’ child.
1. Unexpected Visitor

Summary: Toulouse's actions come back to haunt him as the un-experienced bohos attempt to raise an 'accidental' child.

Disclaimer: I do not take credit for the characters and story of the Moulin Rouge.

Note: This is my first MR fiction. Please feel free to comment or give constructive criticism. Enjoy!

It was the 'freedom' that had drawn him to be a part of the Bohemian Revolution in Paris. Though the life was without boundaries and rules, actions still had consequences. In short 'freedom' along with its devious cohort 'love' had come back to bite Toulouse in the behind. A year ago, there was an incident of sorts. The infamous alcoholic was drunk yet again as he stumbled off to his date with a can-can dancer. Words were thrown around, things happened, and when it was all said and done, the dwarf woke up with no memory of the night's events. This was all followed by the mysterious disappearance of his date and the silent treatment he received from the girls at the Moulin Rouge. Thinking nothing of it, he overlooked the occasion's importance…until now.

Toulouse and his boho friends were just celebrating their last show with a few, well maybe more than a few, glasses of the green fairy when a furious banging came from the door of their garret.

"Hahaha! I'll get it!" Toulouse laughed maniacally as he toddled to the entrance. With his cane tucked under an arm and his drink firmly clutched in his fist, the bohemian swung the door open. "Hello?" He greeted while trying very hard to suppress the laughter.

"Toulouse-Lautrec!" An angry voice shouted, causing the smiling midget to drop his glass in shock. Diving after goblet, he kneeled face to face with the ground desperately trying to lick up a few droplets of the drink.

"May I help you mademoiselle?" He said dithering over the shattered cup and its spilled contents. The scantily dressed woman forced her way into the loft and put her high heels down further crushing the glass. Toulouse looked up sheepishly at his fuming guest.

"You most certainly can!" She snapped.

"I'm sorry, you are?" He asked pushing up his glasses for a better look.

"Who am I?" the girl restated bitterly "I'll tell you. I'm the mother of your child! That's who I am!"

"Perhaps I heard wrong. Did you say _child_?" Toulouse said in disbelief.

"Yes." The strange woman said on the edge of her patience.

"What child?" He chuckled at the 'joke'

"This one!" She said shoving a bundle into his arms. The bohemians still in the back of the room stood up in unison to try and catch a glimpse of the baby. Eye wide open, Toulouse stared at the infant nestled in the blankets.

"Sorry?" It was the only think he could think to say.

"I didn't think you'd remember!" the girl shouted. "A year ago, that one night stand! You thought it was all a game didn't you? And look at what happened? I lost my job!" Furrowing his brow Toulouse strained to remember what had happened a year ago. Since then, he'd had a few more one-nighters and a couple more drinks. What didn't happen in the past year? Suddenly it hit him.

"That's right! Where'd you go? You disappeared the next week." He said curiously.

"I went to 'visit my sick mother'! When everyone found out about this…this…thing!" She screeched pointing at the baby "I was fired, out on the streets!" Toulouse tried to speak but no words came out. He had no idea that something that had lasted for a mere hour at the most could've come back to hit him in the face.

"We're through! If we were ever together. Goodbye!" The can-can dancer yelled as she stormed out the door and slammed it shut. It was completely silent for an entire minute, which was rare in the house of five energetic bohemians. The group had gathered around the dazed dwarf in awe. Finally, Audrey the writer broke the silence.

"What just happened?" He asked. It was an odd moment; Toulouse had no idea what had just happened either.


	2. Clueless

Note: Thanks to Mr. Pooch for the wonderful review. Sorry about the short and seemingly incomplete first chapter. I hope this longer one will bring a lighter mood to the story. I intend to add more chapters and as usual, welcome your comments and critiques.

An event had to be nothing short of enormous to drag partying Bohemians away from their celebration. This event, however, had them silent and sober. The five occupants of the garret now stood around a table absolutely motionless. _Something _happened a few minutes ago. The fact remains that they were now heavy one member: the proclaimed 'child of Toulouse'. The lengthy period of awkward silence was followed with the lengthy period of awkward gawking. A newborn abandoned by its mother was now dozing on their cluttered counter. Accustomed to the fast-paced life of a revolutionary, The Doctor piped up.

"It's not doing anything."

"Is it broken?" the Musician inquired, voice filled with concern. Reacting to the cacophony, the sleeping baby stirred.

"Shhh! It's moving!" Audrey shushed. The Bohos gasped and waited, hoping it would do…whatever it was supposed to do. To their disappointment, the toddler turned around and went back to sleep.

"Hey!" Toulouse chirped, apparently quite amused by something. "It kind of looks like you!" He said to the Narcoleptic Argentinean.

"He's right!" All but the tango dancer agreed.

"Maybe it's another Narcoleptic?" Posed Toulouse happily.

"No!" The Argentinean said scooping up the infant. "This is a baby!" He explained in his heavy accent "This, is a person from Buenos A…" As he pointed to himself, his eyes crossed and unfocused. Before he could finish, the dancer was on the floor snoozing with the bundle of joy in his arms.

"It's a baby!" Toulouse exclaimed at the 'great discovery'. So they started rejoicing for finally deciphering the identity of mysterious object.

"Aha!"

"Oh! So _that's _what it is!"

Terribly upset with the explosion of noise and its fall (with the Argentinean), the child's face twisted and formed a frown. Suddenly it burst into an all-out cry. Snapping their heads around, the Bohemians crouched near their unconscious friend. Frantically trying to decide what to do, everyone started pointing fingers.

"Look what you did Toulouse!" Audrey accused.

"Me? No!" The dwarf declared.

"Maybe it's thirsty!" said Satie.

"Thirsty!" The stagehand repeated with a glint in his eye. "Then some Absinthe will fix it right up!" At that, The Doc took the baby from the Argentinean and grabbed a bottle of their favorite drink.

"No!" The others cried as they all moved to stop the Doctor from pouring the green liquid into thing's mouth.

"Why not! It makes us happy!" He protested as he tried to move the bottle closer with three of his friends hanging off his arm.

"Babies shouldn't have alcohol!" Audrey said

"What do you know?"

"I'm a writer! I've read books!"

"Satie said it was thirsty!" blamed The Doctor

"I…I just said that it might be thirsty." The pianist countered nervously

"Fine. It's yours Toulouse, you take it!" Said the stagehand as he gave the boho his bawling baby. Having never held a baby before, the midget fumbled it clumsily until he got it in a comfortable position: dangling it upside down. For the perfectly obvious reason, which the four men failed to notice, the toddler's cry intensified if that was at all possible. Growing edgy, Toulouse glanced back and forth between his friends and the upset thing.

"What are we doing wrong?" He asked uneasily. Not knowing what to do, the bohemians stood and watched as the child, now wide awake, flailed its tiny arms in complaint. Seconds later, the Argentinean sprung to life.

"Whoa!" He exclaimed as he woke up to the sight of panic-stricken baby. "No no no no no!" The others now turned their attention to the narcoleptic. "If you were tango dancer, your partner would murder you! You hold your partner like this she smack you after she fall!" he yelled at Toulouse. The dancer took the baby and arranged it in Toulouse's arms in a similar fasion to a tango dip. "Like this! Hand on back! Hand on head! Then you have good posture!" He instructed.

Slowly, the infant's frantic cry diminished to a sob.

"Ah…" Toulouse gasped in realization.

"Why is it still making that terrible sound?" The doctor questioned impatiently as he could feel a head ache coming on. The Argentinean shrugged.

"It misses its can-can dancer?" suggested the writer. Suddenly a brilliant idea came to the baby's father. Toulouse looked around the messy room. Empty bottles, paintings, clothing, and instruments littered the floor. Then his eyes stopped on his stage make up kit. Grabbing his cane and limping over to it, the dwarf looked at his candidates.

"_Satie? Too skinny. The doctor? Too bearded. The Argentinean?Too… Argentinean."_ He thought until he got to the last bohemian. "Audrey come here!" He directed with much excitement.

"What?" The author said very much confused.

"Come here!" Reluctantly, Audrey walked toward the cheery, short man. With great enthusiasm, Toulouse put the bundle down and grabbed his fellow artist. "Now don't move!" He warned as he opened the makeup box and withdrew a tube of lipstick.

"Toulouse…oh no. No!" The writer whimpered as he tried to scurry away. Meanwhile, the bohos looked on with great amusement.

"Come back!" The midget said catching Audrey's collar with his cane and pulling his unwilling client back. The stagehand came to Toulouse's aid as he gently tied their playwright's hands. With a big grin on his face, the actor applied can-can dancer like makeup. "Almost done!" Running over to the spectators, he grabbed the conductor's multicolored scarf. "May I take this?" Not having much of a choice, Satie undid his scarf and handed it to his friend. Toulouse frolicked to his complaining patron and turned his back to the bystanders. The dwarf finished and spun Audrey around for the bohemians to see. "Tada!" He said gloating, very proud of his work. The garret erupted with hysterical laughter.

"It's not funny." The writer said sincerely though it was very hard to take his words seriously. Lautrec had done a wonderful job. Eyeliner, eyeshadow, blush, and lipstick all expertly donned along with a makeshift rainbow scarf-bonnet to complete the look.

"It'll never know the difference!" Toulouse said picking up the baby correctly this time. "Look its mother!" The child's big round eyes studied the cross dresser. After a few moments, it giggled and clapped its hands.

"Well done!" the doctor said pounding the dwarf on the back. For the first time, Toulouse really looked at the smiling baby. Though it looked almost alien and hardly like himself, the bohemian came to appreciate that the same blood flowed through their veins. This, he would remember forever as the moment when he finally realized that he was someone's father.


	3. Sleepless Night

Note: Thanks to all the readers out there and a special thank you to ShyOrangette for your inspirational review. This chapter is fairly long as I may not post again for several days. Enjoy!

Their success in turning the playwright into a surrogate mother figure and soothing the baby's discomfort was about as significant as being a grain of sand on an endless beach. The child laid at ease in its father's arms…that is until the dwarf's less than fit arms became sore and gave way. Now that the bohemians had established how to appease the thing, they prepared to return to their unforgotten celebration.

"There you go!" Toulouse said cheerfully placing it on a chair. "Drink's are on the shelf, bathroom's in there, and if you _must_ be 'sick' after the drink…take it outside. Alright? Help yourself!" Twirling his cane, he joined his fellow artists expecting the infant to be independent.

"Here…"The doctor said handing him a cup and pouring until it overflowed.

"Ahahahahaha!" guffawed the Argentinean raising his chalice. No sooner had they resumed their festivities did the bohos hear a horrible thud. Instinctively turning to the Narcoleptic, they were surprised to see him still standing. Passing out and odd sounds were so common with the dancer that they were now taken lightly and almost expected. This time, their intuition was wrong. Instead of finding the Argentinean out cold, they saw that the blankets on the chair were empty and that its contents had rolled onto the floor. Toulouse rushed over and picked up the baby and placed it on the chair.

"Oh come on then! Sit." He commanded. Still too young to sit up on its own, the baby shook like bobble head and toppled over. The actor caught it mid-fall and repositioned it on the seat cushion. He let go one hand at a time as if trying to balance a block tower until finally he stuck his cane under its chin and propped it up. "Ah. Back to…" Before sentence's end, there was yet another thud. Toulouse scowled, picked up the child and wrapped it back up. "Can't sit eh?" He placed it on the floor lightly. Seeing that no noticeable objections came from it, the bohemians resumed their partying. They had already put up with enough interruptions and were determined to drink until they had enough or until their heads implode. And it was so. For the remainder of the evening the infant retained a rather cool disposition and did not disturb its new family.

Sometime around nine in the evening, though time did not really matter to the revolutionaries, everyone was ready to turn in.

"Can-can. Can you do the can-can? I can do the can-can." Sang the cross dresser as he staggered to bed. Incoherent mumbling along the lines of "What's the matter who's a pie?" came as a response. They had their fill at last.

"Good night sweetie pie." hiccupped Toulouse to the baby as he passed out on the couch. The bohos took their respective places in the loft and drifted off to dream land completely unaware that their night had just begun.

He was rich! Their show had been a complete success. People wanted to see it. Aristocrats from around the world wanted to sponsor.

"Thank-you. Thank-you!" Toulouse said bowing to the enormous crowd. The mob began chanting his name and showering him with money. Pulling out a cigar, the dwarf reclined in a comfortable chair as investors fought to bargain with him. _"This is the life."_ he thought when the chanting turned into an unearthly screeching. "What is that?" Toulouse woke with a start. Sadly it was a dream. His head spun as he tried to figure out where he was. _"The garret. My clock. Where is my clock?" _ Reaching a hand onto the counter beside the sofa, the actor found his alarm clock and pushed it off the table. _"That'll stop the ringing." _As he prepared to go back to sleep, he noticed that the wailing had not ceased. _"The baby."_ The actor crawled off the futon and stood up but was met with a splitting headache. He groaned and placed a hand on his forehead as he made his way to the crying infant. On the other end of the room, his roommates stirred and popped their heads up to see what was making all the commotion. Eventually, all the bohemians were awake and furious.

"For heaven's sake. Cut out that music Satie!" roared the doctor. The Argentinean began cursing in a foreign language as the howling escalated.

"Please be quiet." The dwarf said coaxing the infant. "Why me?"

"Toulouse! Take it outside!" Screamed Audrey. Before the midget knew it, his friends had surrounded him and glared angrily.

"What does it want?" The Argentinean demanded.

"I don't know." Admitted Lautrec. He was too tired to make up excuses and play games at this hour. The dancer kicked the table and muttered under his breath.

"It's his and he doesn't know what he's doing. _Yo mato El si su bebe no esta silencio…_"he grumbled, falling into his native tongue.

"You need some help Toulouse," The doc said straight out, "it can't keep going on like this."

"Who?" he asked helplessly

"Someone at the Rouge." said the stagehand on the edge of his patients. At this point, the child was calmer allowing the Bohemians to actually hear themselves think.

"The dancer's are petrified of babies." Stated Audrey. The feeble beam of light that could've gotten them out of the mess was now completely blotted out.

"What about that Lady that takes care of the performers?" suggested the quiet pianist rubbing his eyes, "Marie." Looking back and forth amongst each other, the group nodded.

"Could work." agreed Toulouse raising his eyebrows. Marie looked like the motherly type, what with watching over the girls and all. She also had a good number of years behind her so she wouldn't be as skittish as Zidler's diamond dogs. "Alright. We'll take it there first thing in the morning." The dwarf's answer was met with more stares. "What? You don't expect me to take it down to her _now_. She's not going to be awake." he argued. Not looking to loose anymore sleep, the exhausted bohemians wanted the problem fixed…now. Toulouse laughed innocently and before he knew it, he had put on his top hat and was on his way out the door. Unwilling to go and embarrass himself in front of his coworkers alone, he had dragged the gang along.

The Moulin Rouge was a night club but at this absurd hour, the raging house was a ghost town. Quietly, the group stole through the streets and made their way backstage.

"I think it's this one!" Toulouse said pointing at a door.

"Kock." ordered the stagehand who was not in a friendly mood. Biting his lip, the dwarf rapped lightly on the door. On the other side of the entrance, Marie groaned and pulled her quilt over her head in an attempt to shut out the noise. The tapping continued. Her guest was either very stubborn or out of their mind. Throwing on a bathrobe, the stage manager trudged to the door with heavy eyelids. _"I'll be back to bed within the minute." _She told herself as she opened the door.

"Yes?" Blinking twice, she looked at her visitors. They were without a doubt the strangest lot she had ever laid eyes on. Four worn out men…and one woman? All had heavy dark circles under their eyes and solemn expressions. "Mr. Monfa. Do you have the slightest idea what time it is?" she scolded.

"That's Mr. Henri Marie Raymond Toul…"the actor started to correct when four hands shot in to stop him.

"I understand. Now that you have successfully disturbed my rest, what can I do for you other than cutting open that head of yours and filling it up?" she said. The dwarf was speechless.

"Go on." his friends said giving him a slight nudge. Exhaling, Toulouse withdrew a package from underneath his cloak and unwrapped it. Marie gasped and put a thin hand over her gaping mouth.

"Is this…_your_ child Toulouse?" she half whispered. Nodding somberly, he turned his head away like a shameful puppy. The woman's cut-throat expression instantly softened into a warm smile. "Oh," She said gingerly taking the infant from its father "It's beautiful!" Then she turned her pair of hawk eyes to Toulouse. "That doesn't pardon you for waking me up in the dead of night." Marie reminded him in a firm tone. The dwarf laughed nervously as they all entered the stage manager's room. "Is it a he or a she?" the caretaker asked inquisitively.

"Haha. Well, you see." began the Actor. "What I mean to say is."

"What he means to say," the Doctor cut in, "is that he doesn't know." The woman frowned and readjusted the child in her grip.

"I didn't think you artists would be so thick headed." She said coldly laying the baby down on her cot and turned away. "It's a girl." Marie announced handing her back to Toulouse.

"A girl!" The Bohemians chorused in shock. Apparently in their years of friendship, they had gotten used to the philosophy that they had to act differently around women. Hygiene was an issue, manners were a problem, and above all, freedom would be put into jeopardy when one got tied down. To them, women were good for company, nothing more.

"Is there a problem Mr. Monfa?" the stage manager questioned

"Of course not!" He assured her with a smirk.

"I suppose I don't have to ask if you have a name for her." Marie said monotonously. With his hangover suppressed, Toulouse spun around and looked up to the now awake group. The bohos loved their short friend too much to cut him loose now. They would share and help him bear this burden though it means their lives will not go without changes. This was doubtlessly an epic moment so naturally their little girl deserved an equally significant name. Deliberating in their bohemian huddle, their decision was unanimous. They would name their baby after that which is most prized to them. They named her…Absinthe.


	4. First try

Note: Sorry for the long wait. I was on vacation and was unable to post. Thanks again to ShyOrangette for your awesome review. Thankyou all for your patients and support.

Marie was kept awake much longer than her initial prediction of a few minutes. It was the early hours of the morning when the group excitedly returned to their garret. The kind but firm stage manager had taught the amateurs the basics of parenting. The Argentinean, however, would have to be filled in after passing out half way through. In return (though it wasn't _really_ a favor) the bohemians dubbed Marie the "non-bourgeois awesomely bohemian god-parent" of Absinthe.

"Thank-you!" Toulouse said as they left the woman's room. The door closed with a bang. Though they felt slightly guilty about keeping her up for so long, they were too thrilled to dwell on the idea. The now proud father danced ahead with his baby girl while his three companions brought up the rear carrying the unconscious tango dancer. "Can't you hurry up?"

"Why don't _you_ carry him and let _us_ carry the baby?" grumbled the writer. Satie winced as he adjusted his grip on the Argentinean's arm.

"He's awfully heavy Toulouse." said the conductor.

"My dear friends! I would gladly help but the height and this," the dwarf said raising his cane, "would only slow you down. So I'll just carry this heavy, heavy baby and spare you of this dreadful task." The others could only roll their eyes as the actor proceeded to sprint up the stairs to their home not even holding the door open. Heaving the Argentinean up the steps, the Doctor kicked open door. They dropped him on the floor and stopped to catch their breath.

"Isn't she beautiful?" cried Toulouse. The enthusiasm was uncanny.

"Yes… but…could…you…slow…down…just a bit?" panted the cross-dressing author. The sweat was making his make off run. "I'm going to take this off." He said heading for the bathroom.

"No!" screamed the actor "Don't do that! She needs a mother figure!"

"Then _you_ do it!" said Audrey running to the restroom.

"Again I would but I'm already the father and you're the only one that looks good dressed like a woman!" he answered smiling. The writer stopped half way and sighed. He turned around placed a hand on the wall.

"The things I do for you Toulouse. I swear."

"Good and I thank you! Now, where do we put Absinthe?" he asked.

"Well we don't have a… crib? Whatever that is." said the musician.

"Ha ha! We'll make one!" The stage-hand said pulling out his tools.

"A crib is a bed with gates around it to stop the infant from getting out." Audrey stated flipping through one of his books. "Like this."

"Oh." The others said looking at the picture. It looked like a jail to them. Not exactly the greatest place to bring up a child where the most educated person around was a gender-confused playwright.

"We don't have anything that looks like that around here," Toulouse said to his daughter, "do we?" Absinthe giggled. This was followed by a big 'aw' moment which the dancer awoke and joined.

"I don't think I have enough wood scraps from the last show. Not enough for a bed." The doctor informed them.

"I've got something that might work." said Satie pushing up his glasses while studying the picture Audrey gave them. The eccentric composer kept a corner of the loft piled with music paraphernalia. After he brought home a box of umbrellas, which he claimed were wonderful for making tunes, they stopped asking him what had in his little nook. He dug through the mountain next to his beloved piano and returned rolling what looked like a big bucket.

"What is that?" questioned the Argentinean.

"It's a base drum. Well a broken base drum." he explained while sadly holding the ripped canvas on one side of the instrument. "It doesn't have bars like that but she won't fall out of it."

"Splendiferous!" Toulouse said grabbing a discarded vest and laying the fabric inside. He placed the child in and marveled at their improvised crib. It would raise eyebrows but it would have to work for now. Everyone gathered around the cradle and admirably looked in. The sun would be up soon and the Bohemians had had little sleep. Beginning to nod off, they were faced with yet another problem. The dwarf's sleepy eyes suddenly shot open.

"Zidler!." He whispered with his hand over his mouth

"Aw what is it Toulouse?" the doctor asked snapping out of a light doze.

"We'll never be able to keep her if Zidler finds out. Or worse, the police!" said the actor nervously biting his nails.

"Su bebe, su problema." mumbled the Argentinean falling off his seat, curling up, and going to sleep (as if he didn't sleep enough already). Toulouse smacked the dancer in frustration.

"You mean _our_ problem." He corrected.

"Si…OUR problem." The Argentinean grumbled sitting up and pulling a blanket around his shoulders. The Rouge was a night club. That meant 12 hour work days and then some come opening day. Their schedule would be hectic.

"I've got a meeting with a possible investor tomorrow." announced Audrey "If we get the job, I'll have to work with them to perfect the script. They'll be watching me."

"Yes, yes, we know the importance of the writer Audrey." Toulouse said waving off the comment "One of us will have to be here at all times for the next month that's what Marie said."

"We can't leave it for a little bit?" The doctor inquired

"No." sighed the actor

"Not even for…"the stagehand gulped, "drinking?" He hadn't thought about that. Toulouse's eyes began to water as he couldn't believe what he was about to say.

"Not even for drinking." He repeated miserably. The Bohemians embraced each other in a group hug and burst into tears. A life without alcohol and parties? It was unimaginable.

"What if we bring her with us?" proposed the Doctor

"Whoa...to the Moulin Rouge! That's no place for a child!" Audrey said holding his hands up in front of him.

"We'll let Satie watch her during the day. There's nothing wrong with a little music!" The doctor argued placing the writer's nail polish covered hands back at his side. Satie was speechless after being volunteered to do something he did not really want to do.

"Are your screw's loose? You're really going to risk his little bald prodigies finding out? They're musicians! Their ears can pick up a sour note from half way across the world! They're like dogs!" the writer shouted imitating a hound on a trail. The dwarf looked to his spellbound friend in amazement.

"They can?" Toulouse inquired

"Not exactly." The musician answered quietly.

"Ah ha! So we leave her with him. Done!" said the Argentinean merrily trying to rush the process along.

"She can stay with me while I'm composing but then I've got to present the music to Zidler." Satie warned

"I'll watch her between rehearsals." Toulouse resolved.

"She can come back stage during rehearsals." Offered the Stagehand "That is, if she doesn't mind the noise and dark."

"Then I'll come get her after my meeting with the sponsor and bring her back here." the cross-dresser said "That just leaves night time." The group glared at the last remaining Boho who had not already volunteered." Rolling his eyes the Argentinean accepted the dreaded nightshift.

"And I will watch her after work." He conceded. Cheering, the revolutionaries walked off to bed leaving the midget with his baby. He had only gotten her a few hours ago and so much had already happened. The road ahead would be anything but easy. Silently, Toulouse swore to do anything and everything he could to give her the life she deserved even if it meant giving up the green fairy. After all, he had a new Absinthe in his life. He took the cleanest towel he could find, which was filthy, and tucked in his daughter.

"You know what Absinthe? Everything's going to be alright." He said quietly before yawing and falling asleep on the floor. So began their long journey of parenthood and the even longer road to becoming sober.


End file.
